


hook, line, and sinker

by kuro49



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, DCU, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Biting, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: When he grins at him, it is all teeth.





	hook, line, and sinker

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bite [Fanart]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12859809) by [marourin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marourin/pseuds/marourin). 



> based on marourin's perfect perfect art, originally posted to tumblr and finally polished off for here.

 

“Do you have a fetish I should know about?”

This is not the kind of pillow talk the two of them have (not that they have pillow talks at all), not when there are many nights where they do not end up here (even if they do end up together). They cannot quite call it a bad habit when it is really a mutual routine that they have at this point, slamming one against another against vertical surfaces like it is the nostalgia for the first time they met rather than anything else that runs deeper. 

It is a rare night when they end up here, on a flat surface with pillows and sheets with a ridiculously high thread count. Even royalty have a different concept of luxury than Bruce Wayne does. Arthur is naked and sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed when Bruce comes out of the shower, towel draped around his neck, water dripping from the ends of his hair still, loose sleep pants hanging low over his hips. 

“If you are trying to subtly ask if I want to fuck with you dressed as a bat, the answer is not particularly.” Arthur tells him, nonchalant like he has been anticipating this conversation for a while now and Bruce isn’t quite sure why. Isn't quite sure he wants to know why. “But if you really want to—”

“That was not my question at all, please do not finish that sentence.” 

Bruce is feeling every year of his age when he cuts him off but it is still an early night when Arthur hasn’t even gotten into his liquor stash just yet. 

“What are you talking about then?” Arthur asks, looking like he is the one humoring Bruce Wayne instead.

“ _This_ is what I am talking about.” Bruce tells him, bitingly so as he drags the towel off and tosses it at Arthur to reveal deep red purple splotches of bruises that barely conceal the imprints of teeth. The key here being imprint _s_. His skin buzzes, like he can still feel Arthur sinking his teeth into him, once then twice before leaning back just a breath to drag his tongue across the bites he leaves. But in between one and the next, Arthur is also doing something just as wicked with his fingers, palms against the inside of his thighs. Bruce has to wonder if this is what it feels like to be content with someone. “You have the self control of a teenager.”

Arthur doesn’t quite laugh but he does look thoroughly impressed by the shameless display of his work tracking a very lovely path across Bruce from hip to chest to the flesh of his shoulder to the side of his neck. He is not one to lay his claim like he is relying on a baser instinct but there is a certain kind of appeal to it when he sees him looking like this.

“Why don’t you come over here and let me kiss it better then.”

When he grins at him, it is all teeth.


End file.
